


trick or treat

by quakeriders



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Halloween Costumes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 04:20:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20651096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quakeriders/pseuds/quakeriders
Summary: The next photo took her breath away. She was dressed like a witch. Eight years old, holding onto a broom like her life depended on it and scowling at a nine year old boy, who was wearing a huge pair of bat wings and grinned down at her mischievously.prompt: childhood best friends au for feysand plz!!!!!!!!!





	trick or treat

**Author's Note:**

> here's some fluff.

Feyre looked down at the box and let out a deep sigh.

She leaned her back against the bed frame, crossing her legs and pulling the sparkly pink box onto her lap. Some of the glitter stuck to her fingers as she lifted the lid and looked at its contents.

A flood of memories hit her then. Hard and fast and leaving her breathless.

She hadn’t been back in this house for almost 5 years. After graduating from high school and going off to college at the other end of the country, she had moved in with Tamlin and stopped visiting her family.

Now, she had nothing but her broken heart and the slightly lighter band of skin on her finger where that godawful engagement ring had sat.

No, she had her degree. And her freedom.

Feyre picked up the stack of photos and the sight of her mother with Nesta and Elain cuddled up on their sofa, smiling brightly, made her choke on a sob.

She had forgotten her mother’s face. Had forgotten it long before she had left this home, not being able to look at the pictures without remembering that night in the hospital.

She moved onto the next picture, one of her and Elain in their back garden. Elain’s fingers were stained with mud and her own were paint-splattered. They were both smiling uncomfortably.

The next photo took her breath away. She was dressed like a witch. Eight years old, holding onto a broom like her life depended on it and scowling at a nine year old boy, who was wearing a huge pair of bat wings and grinned down at her mischievously.

The next photo was from the same party. A group shot of Rhys’ cousin and foster siblings with them. They were all laughing, even Feyre.

Feyre’s hands shook as she went through the next few pictures. As she looked at the sunset, the glittering lights upon the Sidra and a few more artistic shots she had taken in her early teens, when she had gotten a camera for her birthday.

And then, she saw the selfies. Her and Mor, fourteen and grinning like fools, their lips painted with a chunky glittery lipgloss, their eyelids covered in neon blue eyeliner.

Another set of photos from a halloween party. Again, Feyre was dressed like a witch. But this time, she was sixteen and had chosen her outfit herself.

The fishnet tights, the low-cut black top, the plaid skirt and of course a godawful witches hat and the same broom from years before.

And again, Rhys was with her. He, too, had a similar costume. A dark long-sleeved shirt that hugged his torso, black jeans and a set of velvety dark wings that they had created together.

Feyre remembered the amount of hot glue they had needed to put the thing together and the way they had laughed and argued as they created them.

With a sigh, Feyre took two photos from the stack and put the rest of them back inside the box. Then she got to her feet with a slight groan.

Her car was a beat up old thing, that was loud and slow but big enough for her to put the huge bag into the backseat. She got into the car and felt the nostalgia of driving uptown, towards the house she had spent so many afternoons at.

The lights in the living room were turned on and she got out of the car, ignoring the pumpkins that sat at the front porch. She knocked on the door, her heart beating in her throat and waited.

The door was opened by a tall man, his shoulders broad and clothed in black. Feyre’s eyes travelled up to meet those remarkable violet eyes peering down at her.

Rhys’ mouth fell open as he stared at her. She could make out the faint sounds of a tv coming from inside.

“Happy Halloween” Feyre said, her voice shaking a little.

Rhysand just kept looking at her like she was a ghost.

“Rhys?” She asked, clutching the photos in her hand a little tighter and bit on her bottom lip. Maybe this had been a mistake, maybe he had forgotten her after so many years of radio silence, maybe he was pissed off and didn’t want to see her-

“Feyre” His voice was low, filled with wonder and his eyes glimmered with an emotion so intense that Feyre’s stomach clenched. “Is it really you?”

She let out a low laugh and nodded. “Yeah, it’s me.” And as if to prove it, she held up the photos and watched as Rhys’ eyes flicked down to look at them. His jaw clenched and he blinked away the wetness in his eyes.

“I have a gift for you.” Feyre said, pointing over her shoulder towards her car. “But before that, I need you to answer a question for me.”

“Anything.” Rhys said, swallowing hard, not even looking at the car.

“Trick or treat?” She asked, grinning up at him.

He let out a startled laugh and then he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.


End file.
